My Due Date was Friday, 31st August however I was already booked in for a planned induction on Monday, 3rd September as a result of being large for dates. Once i'd got the date for my induction, i'd resigned myself to the fact that baby C would never arrive on his own accord therefore I never expected to go into labour naturally. Little did I know!
Friday 31st came and I felt fine at first. It wasn't till I got into bed to snuggle down to watch The Batchelor that I started to feel a few niggles of back pain. The pains seemed to last a few minutes and were, at times, painful enough to wake me. I woke Mr C up countless times throughout the night simply to have a whinge at him but not at any point did I expect that I were in labour.
Saturday 1st September - After a restless night, I eventually decided enough was enough and got up at about 6am. I had an urge to clean my kitchen cupboards however it wasn't strong enough and I fought it and relaxed on the couch eating giant Haribo strawberries instead! Once Mr C woke, we decided to go to Toby Carvery for a breakfast. I didn't think for one minute that I was in labour so off we went! Once we got there, the pains were getting a little stronger but I thought I needed a poo! Classy lady I am!
Once we'd got our breakfasts, I stood up to go to the bar to get a coffee and as I did, I felt a trickle of liquid between my legs. I shouted 'I'm weeing and I can't stop!' to Mr C right in the middle of, a fully packed, Toby Carvery and ran into the ladies loo's where I promptly rang my friend who's a midwife. Mr C came running into the ladies toilets after telling the manager that his girlfriend was going to give birth! After finding out that I wouldn't be giving birth for a fair few hours yet, Mr C promptly relaxed and returned to eat his breakfast. I waddled out of the toilet still wearing my damp jeans to be greeted by Mr C calmly enjoying his sausages looking like he hadn't a care in the World! Men eh?! He was even more made up that we didn't have to pay as the manager said it was good luck!
Once home, I rang the hospital where a VERY grumpy sounded midwife proceeded to tell me that, my waters hadn't gone; I was in fact experiencing 'increased vaginal discharge'! (Sorry for TMI!) I was adamant that she was wrong however she told me that I wasn't to go to the hospital as I wasn't in labour. This infuriated me and I spent a good half hour stomping around the house telling Mr C that I knew my body and I most certainly wasn't experiencing increased discharge! Over this time I kept feeling slight trickles but there wasn't that whoosh that I imagined. I sat bouncing on the birthing ball watching TV whilst moaning (again!) at Mr C that 'the stupid bloody effing idiotic midwife' doesn't believe me and I'm right and she's wrong and blah blah blah! (I told you he deserved a medal!)
We went for a stroll around Asda to try get things moving and armed with a maternity pad, I was determined to prove that midwife wrong! Once we get home, I found that the pad was still dry and I started to doubt the fact that I was in labour at all. I got myself an ice pop (pregnancy life saver!) and sat on my birthing ball once again and there it was... a WHOOSH! I jumped up; splashing amniotic fluid all over my living room carpet and shouted for Mr C to come and see! I rang the hospital to be greeted by the same grumpy midwife again but was pleased to find that she advised me to go into the hospital to confirm that my waters had indeed gone. Excited, I took it upon myself to re-paint my finger and toe nails so they matched, plucked my eyebrowns and did my hair & full face of make-up. There was no way that I was going to give birth looking a minger!
We got to the hospital at around 5pm and I was hooked up to a ECG monitor to check how baby was doing. I was pleased to find that he was well and more than a little surprised when she told me that I was having regular contractions too; I still thought I only needed a poo! At this point, I wasn't in any great pain so when advised to go to the ward, I opted to go home and labour there instead. The midwife said this was fine as long as we didn't indulge in any intercourse! WHAT?! I was in labour, a quickie was the last thing on my mind! So off we went home...
Once at home, Mr C got himself comfty in front of the TV to watch Doctor Who. We thought we were going to be in for a long night so I laid down on the bed whilst the pains got more and more frequent (but I STILL was adamant I needed a poo!) . Once X Factor started, the contractions started to hurt a little more so I called for Mr C to come into the bedroom armed with his 'app' to time them. The strangest thing happened when the app showed that they all lasted exactly 53 seconds and they were 3 1/2 minutes apart. Mr C rang the hospital who advised us to go in straight away. This time, make up and sleek hair where the last things on my mind and I turned up at the labour ward wearing Mr C's Homer Simpson slippers!
The midwife said I seemed very calm to say how my contractions where going and I was a bit peeved as I felt she didn't believe me. When she eventually examined me, she found that I was 5cm dilated already! Bonus! I thought she was about to send us home again as she thought I was exaggerating so I was made up when she said I could have pain relief and I was going to be moved into a delivery room.
Part 2 coming soon!
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